


Burying the Hatchet

by DoctorWhovian9209



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Smut, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 23:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12330630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorWhovian9209/pseuds/DoctorWhovian9209
Summary: Ratchet works too much, can Drift help?Of course he can, that question was rhetorical.This is shameless, shameless smut.





	Burying the Hatchet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eliepawthree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliepawthree/gifts).



Ratchet had been working in the medbay late again. Everyone else had gone to their habsuites to recharge, something First Aid was reminding him that he needed to do. “You worry too much about me, Aid.” The medic had teased only to be reprimanded by the younger mech.

“Only because you don’t worry about yourself at all, someone has to.” he’d said which only caused Ratchet to wave him off absentmindedly, staring at the mountain of datapads he had to sort through before he could leave for the day. The medic barely heard the door open before a smooth voice beckoned to him in the darkness.

“You really should listen to Aid you know, he means well.” Ratchet heard the smirk on the other mech’s lipplates before he looked up.

“And you should really learn to knock, Drift” his tone light. “I have to get this done, I’ll be worthless to him tomorrow if this paperwork doesn’t get done.” Ratchet reasoned, the speedster scoffed at him.

“You are fragging useless now, you never take care of yourself!” Ratchet felt Drift’s field tense with concern and he pushed his chair away from the desk and sighed. Drift’s optics softened. “Please, come to the berth with me, just rest, That’s all I ask.” The swordsmech’s tone was pleading, the medic smirked and sensed a need in Drift’s field.

Need that had been lurking at the back of Ratchet’s processor all day, one that sent a tingle down his spinal strut, and spread warmth to his array. He stood wordlessly spinal strut arching, a stretch meant only to awaken stiff joints.

Ratchet felt optics watching him closely and was satisfied when Drift’s engine revved softly. Ratchet chuckled when the speedster cleared his intake loudly, trying to conceal his desire for the medic. Ratchet grasped Drift’s servo firmly and pulled him out of the medbay, datapads still scattered across his desk. Work be damned. He thought.

The corridors seemed longer to Ratchet now than they had earlier, his servo still grasped Drift’s firmly. Reaching their shared habsuite had never excited him as much as it had in this moment. He stole a glance at the swordsmech who was smirking at him.

The door opened and Ratchet pulled Drift inside and locking the door behind them. Finally able to pull Drift into a proper embrace, Ratchet just held him for a long time, neither one of them speaking, neither one of them needing to.

The swordsmech allowed the medic to reacquaint himself with his frame, Ratchet’s soft caresses of his spinal strut had the speedster purring softly and arching into his touch. “Ratchet” the whisper of his name was breathy and full of hunger. Drift’s lipplates soon captured his own, the kiss was slow and certain and the glossa that followed was unhurried in its explorations.

“Primus, I’ve missed you.” Ratchet said as they broke apart and Drift looked at him quizzically.

“I’ve been right here.” The speedster said, not unkindly, “But I’ve missed you too.” Ratchet looked at Drift and guilt flooded his field, but Drift pulled the medic into another embrace, his own field overpowering the medic with love and understanding. “You think I don’t know how much of a workaholic you are?” the swordsmech asked chuckling. “If that bothered me, we would have been over a long time ago.”

Ratchet conceded “Fair point, kid” he took Drift’s faceplates in his servos, tilted his helm upward so their optics locked, and ran a digit over the speedster’s bottom lipplate, before capturing them both with his own. The kiss was slow and full of need, not unlike the first kiss they shared when Ratchet locked the door to their habsuite, this one added kindling to the fire in Drift’s frame. The slow, measured way that their lipplates collided in perfect harmony with each other, left them both breathless when they pulled back, gasping ventilations.

Drift was the first to speak, with his helm resting on the other mechs’ “I will never get over the way you kiss, you know.” The medic felt a sense of pride at the compliment, lipplates slightly upturned in a knowing smirk.

“You never get over the way I do a lot of things” Ratchet purred leaning down to whisper into his audial, one hand on Drift’s hip holding him in place.

“Because you do a lot of things very well…” The swordsmech said before kissing his lipplates gently and pulling back. The two of them still locked in an embrace. “I’ve become addicted, what can I say?” Drift asked smiling, Ratchet chuckled quietly and Drift continued, the tone in his vocalizer dropping an octave, “I have a very addictive personality, as you might have noticed.”

“Oh I’ve noticed” the medic commented arousal prickling at the edge of his field as he pulled Drift closer to him, so their heated arrays were inches apart. When Ratchet spoke again, his voice was low and dangerous as he murmured into the swordsmech’s intake “it’s not exactly hard to miss.” Drift’s hips moved on their own accord as Ratchet sank his denta into his neck cables gently. Making the swordsmech arch into his touch.

“Ratch…” Drift moaned softly “You aren’t playing fair…You know what that does to me…” the medic smirked and continued his ministrations.

“Who said anything about playing fair?” That earned the stubborn mech a petulant glare.

“You’re a medic, you’re whole fragging life is about playing fair.” The swordsmech countered and Ratchet laughed. Hard. and left hot open mouthed kisses along Drift’s intake.

“Yes, but I’m off the clock…” Ratchet said the vibrations of his vocalizer against Drift sent delicious chills up the swordsmech’s spine. “And I think you know how unfair I can be in my off time.” He purred.

Drift’s engines revved softly and Ratchet laughed, a low sultry sound before biting at his lovers neck cables again, this time the medic’s glossa soothed every sharp jolt of pain his denta inflicted. Drift was lost in a sea of sensations. He loved it when Ratchet let go of his inhibitions like this.

“Harder…Bite me harder..” the plea dripped from his vocalizer and Ratchet growled possessively in the swordsmech’s audial before pinning him to the wall of the habsuite and complying with his lovers request, loving the way Drift’s entire frame shivered and the way the swordsmech moaned his name as his dentae sank further into the delicate cables beneath them.

“You want me to be rough Drift? Want me to control you?” The medic asked pulling back slightly, his hot exvents on the sensitive intake almost proving to be too much for the speedster beneath him.

“Primus yes Ratchet, it’s been far too long.” Drift whimpered, the medic locked optics with him before capturing his lipplates in a searing kiss. The sound of an interface panel eagerly opening was not lost on Ratchet, and he sank his digits into a tight wet heat, making the Swordsmech’s helm fall back on the wall in a silent scream.

“Drift, you feel so good wrapped around my digits like this…” Ratchet’s purr in his audial was of appreciation and he ventured deeper with two digits leisurely stroking the swordsmech’s interior node. “You did say you wanted it rougher though didn’t you?” the medic couldn’t help his smirk as he pulled his digits from Drift earning him a whimper in return.

Ratchet slammed the two digits inside of his lover, using precision to strike his interior node again and again.

“Ratchet… Primus… please...” Drift’s words tumbled from his vocalizer in a beautiful staccato rhythm to match the rough thrusts of the medic’s digits inside his valve.

 

The medic ceased all movement, letting some of Drift’s lubricant coat the digits he’d inserted, Drift’s needy whine made him growl against the swordsmech’s spaulder “Patience, Drift..Let me savor you…” Ratchet began to kiss him softly, and was careful not to move, Drift’s hips bucked upward to no avail and the medic chuckled darkly, “That’s not patient Sweetspark.” Ratchet removed his digits from Drift’s valve and felt his lovers sharp invent, Ratchet glanced at him  the swordsmech had his optics shuttered and  was clearly expecting another rough thrust and he frowned when none came.

 

Suddenly Drift felt a warm wetness skim his lipplates and his optics flew open, locking onto  Ratchet who breathed one word into the air between them. “Suck.” It was Drift’s turn to smirk now, knowing how sensitive the  medic’s servos  were, he complied willingly. Wrapping his glossa around the digit suggestively moaning at the taste of his own lubricant there, the vibration making Ratchet moan loudly.  

 

Primus  knew  work had kept the medic  busy, what with mech coming in battered and dented from the new “games” that should have been illegal from the get go, but with a Captain like Rodimus, you braced yourself for the unexpected. Ratchet had a meeting in the morning with Ultra Magnus to prevent future accidents, but right now all that mattered was the way Drift was suckling his digits clean. Ratchet’s spike was now pressurizing painfully and he couldn’t hide the wince that crossed his faceplates. Drift pulled back almost immediately.

 

“Did I hurt you?” the panicked look that seized his optics was too hard for Ratchet to miss,  the medic was quick to reassure him.

 

“No! Primus No!” Drift visibly relaxed as Ratchet continued “My spike...” the swordsmech smirked again and a wickedness reached his optics.

 

“Ratchet, You deny yourself too much.” Drift’s vocalizer was laced with desire as he ground his valve into Ratchet’s panel coaxing it open. “Let me pleasure you” he  heard a  possessive growl as the medic released his spike and thrust it shallowly into Drift, who hissed in pleasure at the intrusion.

 

“Ratchet…Oh Primus…Ratchet…” Drift ground down again this time on his spike, the medic was beyond the realm of self control and thrust roughly into Drift whose spinal strut was scraping along the habsuite wall where he was pinned. The medic’s movements were slow, but rough.

 

“Wrap your legs around me.” Ratchet growled in his audial, Drift obeyed and gave him another angle. His last few thrusts were powerful and sank into his lover,  striking  his interior node with an accuracy that few mechs knew how to master. Drift came apart violently a few moments later. The tight clenches of his valve threw Ratchet into a powerful overload that almost sent his vocalizer offline.

 

They stayed like that for awhile, enjoying the afterglow, Ratchet’s spike still buried deep inside Drift whose limp frame was still pinned against the wall. “No, don’t move…too warm..” Drift muttered  as he clung tightly to the medic. Ratchet smiled and hoisted Drift’s legs up higher on his waist as  he attempted to move them to the berth.

 

“Kid, as good as you feel in my arms, I can’t recharge standing up, especially after _that_ , my old frame needs to rest.” Ratchet chuckled at Drift’s objections to movement, but they ceased as soon as his spinal strut hit the softness of the berth. Ratchet untangled himself from the mech for a moment and instead curled around him protectively.

 

“You’re right, this is better” Drift muttered happily before they both fell into a blissful recharge.


End file.
